


A Kind of Good Hurt

by backintimeforstuff



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s05e03 Victory of the Daleks, F/M, Post-Episode: s05e03 Victory of the Daleks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 08:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19225882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backintimeforstuff/pseuds/backintimeforstuff
Summary: People break promises.The biggest mistake she's ever made is assuming he's anywhere near, people.Victory of the Daleks one-shot.





	A Kind of Good Hurt

It’s not working. God, she’s terrified. Even when he gets it wrong, even when he was going to commit the murder of a beautiful innocent creature, he could’ve done it. Given enough time and without any interruptions, he would have done it. Without interruption this time, Amy thinks, again, they’ll all be doomed. 

She can tell it’s getting to him. Staring into the face of his own destruction always makes him the most vulnerable. They’d got him, again, powerless and defenceless. So much for her almost killing everyone on a starship, he’s about to shatter the planet. And she’s not having it. 

“Hey, Paisley.” 

Kneeling down next to the Doctor, she can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s beyond any sort of hope, there’s a look of sorrow which scares her more than the Daleks ever could. He doesn’t try to stop her. He hasn’t got another plan, another way out, and she knows it. Maybe he’s learnt not to challenge her. She hopes he knows by now what she’s capable of. She might be a risk taker, but if anything could save their lives right now, then one risk might be it. They don’t have much time left, nor anything left to lose. The truth is, Amy knows, as Edwin Bracewell counts down the last seconds to the destruction of the globe, it’s not a risk at all. 

She’s saved a whale in outer space by knowing the Doctor better than he himself ever could.  
Now she’s about to save the planet by knowing humanity, and herself, better than she thinks the Doctor ever should. 

She admits things, she finds, when he’s not there to hear. She doesn’t know what she’s most afraid of, the look of sorrow that’d come first, or the sympathy that’d come after. There’s a very fine line between wanting comfort, and appearing in need of protection. She doesn’t want him to know that he’s caused her to suffer a lot more than just waiting fourteen years. When Edwin held that gun back in the laboratory, she’d seen her teenage years flash before her eyes. Not that she’d actually managed to get hold of such a weapon in the leafy village of Leadworth, but the principle, the situation remained the same. The desperation, the willingness to end it all, was certainly something she could understand. Certainly, never something she’d tell the Doctor. His look, alone, would be too much. 

She doesn’t want to put that blame on him, even though she thinks he deserves it.  
She doesn’t know whether it’s entirely his fault, which, in a way, makes it even worse. 

He made her a promise, the promise she thought he couldn’t keep. He told her, five minutes, I’ll be right back. And then, he never did. He ran away from her, betrayed her trust, with no warning, with no nothing, not even with a goodbye, the second time. 

Maybe she’s just thinking in human terms.  
She keeps forgetting that she shouldn’t. 

She needs to keep reminding herself that he didn’t come back in five minutes.  
But she knows, from his point of view, he did. 

“Ever fancied someone you knew you shouldn’t?” 

He betrayed her. But did he? Did he really?  
People break promises.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” 

The biggest mistake she’s ever made is assuming he’s anywhere near, people.  
Trust me, I’m the Doctor. 

“But a kind of, good hurt.” 

He’s staring at her now. She can tell out of the corner of her eye. She doesn’t look around. She doesn’t want to see his face, not in front of everyone, not like this.

She doesn’t fancy him, not like that. It’s so much more than that. She doubts the Doctor could ever be so simple. She doubts that their relationship could ever be so. There’s a kind of desire, she knows that much, but that too is complicated. She has a desire for him, but it’s a desire for him to save her, to show her the stars more than anything he himself could offer. She supposes he embodies all of her childhood dreams, and despite everything, even that god-awful bow tie she’s tried to wrestle from him on numerous occasions, she couldn’t even begin to resist. 

She knows she shouldn’t feel like this – but everything about him just shines. She can’t escape the feeling of time standing still when he smiles at her, the same way he did when she was a little girl. She can’t help but go along with his warmth, his pure hopefulness, and it hurts her because she knows that nothing like this can ever last.

She doesn’t expect him to kiss her. 

He’s flapping his hands around like he usually does, elated by the continued existence of the Earth when he leans over, hands in her hair. As kisses go, it’s pretty quick, but she feels him smile as his lips press onto her skin, and for the most articulate man she’s ever met, she’s not at all surprised that he can say so much without saying anything at all. 

When Churchill leaves them to it, when the world is saved and the sky is free of monsters, Amy can’t stop thinking. She can’t begin put into words how grateful she is, for the past and all the planets, and everything else he’s given her. If heroes really do exist, in the fairy-tale sense of the world, then she’s standing right next to hers; and she needs to make sure he knows. Once a long time ago, he’d made a ridiculous promise to a seven-year-old girl, and that fact that’d he’d kept it… God, she just wanted to hug him and never let go. 

If the kiss was unexpected, in that moment she’s not expecting him to thank her, but he does, turning with a slight smile. His words are quiet, but they’re there, and she can tell he’s sincere because he’s never quite been this… forward, before. 

To Amy, the seconds seem to pass like hours. He’s looking at her like he could never begin to look away, and suddenly, he’s hugging her, pulling her into his arms. His head drops onto her shoulder and as her nails find the fabric of his jacket, he whispers three words that make her heart stop in disbelief. 

Am I people? 

She wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He’s inexplicable, her raggedy man, he really, really is. She smiles into his ear, finding words for her gratitude at last. 

“No. No you’re not.”

She doesn’t know how long they stand there in their embrace; she’s not exactly counting, but it’s long enough for her to lose herself in the rhythm of his hearts as they beat softly inside his chest. Her hand has found a home in his hair, and eventually, he pulls away from her, taking it softly between his fingers. 

Ready?

She knows from experience he’s not the type to hang around, she can tell, despite his sincerity and this quiet moment of understanding they’ve just had together, that he wants to move on. There are stars burning out in the sky, and he wants to see them all, he wants to show them all, to her.

“Five minutes?” 

She knew it would make him smile. 

He picks up his tea cup, finishing it without a word. And exactly five minutes later, they’re off.


End file.
